The Crow, The Owl And The Dove
by Laurie-Ylalen
Summary: Three people in Clint Barton's life left a lasting imprint. Looking back after the events of New York, he remembers the crow, the owl and the dove, and what they did for him to become the person he is today. One Shot


**Author's note: Title based on the Nightwish song from the album Imaginaerum. Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated. I also want to say thank you to PeechTao, Aggie2011 and Kylen, 3 people I've never spoken to before, but whose writing inspired mine. You should go read their Hawkeye fic. **

* * *

_A crow flew to me, kept its distance_

_Such a proud creation_

_I saw its soul, envied its pride_

_But needed nothing it had_

Barney Barton always had a stubborn sort of pride. His first word to his parents was 'no', and ever since then he stood his ground on just about everything. He cried once when he learned of his parent's death and Clint only knew about that because Barney had believed him to still be asleep. In a way, Clint envied Barney's pride whilst they were young and still brothers, and even still a little bit as he grew older. It was his pride that allowed him to stand up to the bullies in the orphanage, and the biggest bully of them all who ran the place. It was his pride that would not allow his younger brother to constantly be beaten on without the perpetrator receiving some form of repercussions. No one beat down a Barton if Barney had anything to do with it.

It was also his pride that finally allowed them to escape. Clint remembered that night vividly. His brother gently shaking him awake, the moonlight spilling in through a gap in the curtains glinting off of a freshly split lip on his brothers face. He also saw the burning fury in his brother's eyes.

'_Come on little brother, it is now or never. I refuse to stay here and be a slave to this madman a minute longer.'_

Clint had still trusted Barney at that stage, trusted him completely and utterly. His brother was all he had. He didn't know until years later that the glow in the sky that night hadn't been an early dawn, but the flames of the orphanage raging behind them.

Barney had been forced to swallow his famed pride in order to get them into Carson's Carnival of Travelling Wonders, begging at the ringmaster's door until he finally relented. Barney was the one who gained them the protection of the Swordsman and Trickshot. The men had seen something in this proud and stubborn boy, and accepted him and his quieter brother into their fold. It was thanks to Barney that Swordsman had trained him in archery, nurturing his natural talent until he gained the name Hawkeye and a place on the stage.

He should have seen it coming. To this day, Clint believed he should have seen the damage his new found fame was doing to his brother's prideful nature, should have seen the distance that was growing between them. When he found Swordsman stealing the money, it was only the start of his betrayal. Clint had always believed his brother to be a good man. Nothing could have prepared him for the knife in his side and the hatred in his brother's eyes. The dreams of that night, being abandoned by those he had come to love and left for dead, haunted Clint still. He doubted they would ever leave. The memories of his brother's pride and the pure hatred in his soul that it had wrought helped keep Clint's own pride in check. He didn't need it, or his brother.

_An owl came to me, old and wise_

_Pierced right through my youth_

_I learned its ways, envied its sense_

_But needed nothing it had_

Phil Coulson saved his life the day he reached out a hand to the young assassin and offered him a way out of the hellish spiral that had become his life. Clint's days as an assassin for hire and a downright murderer forever shadowed his actions, but at least now he killed with what he believed was a just purpose.

Coulson had found this broken and half wild kid in a back alley somewhere in Austria, covered in blood and still managing to aim a gun straight at his head with a deadly look in his eye. He had been running, a hit that had gone south since he had been betrayed by the man who had hired him in the first place. Phil had taken him down with barely a breath. Then he had done something that Clint still could not believe. He had let him up. With that classic calm smile that was Coulson all over, he had left Clint with an exit and a business card, offering him the chance at redemption.

Clint had taken it. Coulson had been the one to teach Clint more than he had ever thought possible. He had pierced through the youth's mistrusting and broken exterior to the man that hid beneath. Slowly, step by step, he had brought him out of his shell, showing him who he really was.

Clint always envied Coulson's ability to remain calm in pretty much every situation. His training and knowledge got them out of near enough everything that came at them. Clint nicknamed him the owl once for an entire mission due to the exasperated and owlish look he kept flashing his younger protégé over the glasses he was wearing, and the amount he seemed to know about this one forest they were hunting in.

Clint had never wanted to become Coulson though. That had become obvious after the first month or so. It was something neither of them wanted, and whilst Clint could be incredibly exasperating at times, Coulson wanted nothing more than to see him grow into his own skin and become his own person. Even if it did mean he quickly outstripped Phil's record of reprimands, write up's and blatant disregarding of every single protocol in the book. He was the youngest and best agent SHIELD had ever taken on, and Coulson cared a good deal about the kid.

Coulson was the first, and pretty much only agent at SHIELD who Clint came to trust. As agent and handler, the two of them took the more challenging and dangerous jobs, working together to beat odds many others blanched at just by thinking about them.

Clint learned a lot from Coulson. Heck, he learned who he was, who he could be from the man. He respected Coulson more than anyone. More importantly though, he learned to trust in himself once more, learned that his own talents and instincts were worth something. Without Coulson around, the events of New York shook the foundation of this very belief. But by then he wasn't alone. Of all the things Coulson taught him, Clint learned he didn't need to be Coulson. He was Clint Barton, the Amazing Hawkeye, Agent of SHIELD, and that was fine.

_A dove came to me, had no fear_

_It rested on my arm_

_I touched its calm, envied its love_

_But needed nothing it had_

Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. Clint's partner and truest friend. He still couldn't quite explain to himself what he had seen in her that night. Tasked with taking out the infamous assassin, he had instead brought her in and turned her into an agent of SHIELD. Perhaps he saw the glint of good behind the shadows in her eyes. Perhaps he saw a reflection of himself standing there before Coulson had found him. Either way, he made the right call. Tasha had become his closest ally besides Coulson.

She was one of the only ones not afraid to approach him when the fire behind his eyes was burning fiercely. She wasn't afraid to spar with him, no matter what. To watch, he had been told they were like nothing anyone had ever seen. Lightning fast in their reflexes, and fluid as water in their movements. She also wasn't afraid to wake him after one of his nightmares, to stare down the length of a weapon aimed to kill and calmly talk him down until he was with it again.

That was something Clint saw that few others did. There was a calm side to Tasha, something at the very core of her being. She was in control at all times, the perfect counterbalance to his somewhat wilder nature. Individually they were good. Together they were all but unstoppable.

Of course, Clint knew that wasn't entirely the case. They both had the scars to prove that one, the memories of agonising hours waiting for news if the other one even lived. But they had lived, still lived, and that was what mattered.

After New York, Tasha was the one that kept Clint from falling to pieces. The haunting memories of the icy touch from Loki's sceptre, the blood on his hands as he killed the people he had worked with for years, people he knew. Worst was the memories of Coulson. They had both seen the footage of his death. Tasha had needed a new laptop after that one, and Clint stitches in his hand.

They went away for a while after that. None of the others knew where, and they never let on what happened out there. Both of them had a lot invested in Phil Coulson, and to lose him was like losing a part of themselves. The nightmares about Barney returned, and Tasha learned more about Clint than she had ever even known existed.

What they had wasn't love. They didn't need that. They respected each other too much for that. What they had was a friendship that ran deeper than family, trust that ran deeper than blood. They stood together, watching the sun rise over the newly repaired New York and knew that life had to return to normal. Well, not quite normal. Nothing would ever quite fill the hole that had been left by one Phil Coulson.

They were avengers. They had a team. They had trust. They had each other.

Natasha would forever hold the memories of Natalia Romanova, but maybe one day she just might be able to wipe out some of that red.

Clint held the memories of a crow, and owl and a dove. And he knew he could walk forwards into that new day.


End file.
